


Poker Face

by Samthetrashcan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Black Mailing, Drugs, Gambling, Gang Wars, Ganster AU, Gun Violence, Injury, M/M, Prostitution, homosexual blackmailing, hostages, rum smuggling, sexual favours, tw for each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9640313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samthetrashcan/pseuds/Samthetrashcan
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri was a simple burglar. His methods were unorthodox – but they were simple and worked every single god damn time.He was well off, had his own car and suit. He wasn’t an easily recognisable face, and for those who did know him, knew not to talk of him. He had at least half the men in Detroit sitting in the palm of his smooth hand.Yet all this fortune had to come to an end one day – and it all started with a simple heist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> TW will be supplied at the start of each chapter.
> 
> TW blackmailing/mentions of paedophillia/gun violence/injury

Katsuki Yuuri was a simple burglar. His methods were unorthodox – but they were simple and worked every single god damn time.

He had a list in his mind of every single known or suspected homosexual in Detroit and knew exactly which ones were millionaires and which ones were worth stealing from. Usually, he would seduce them, have sex with them and then in the mornings he would write a note, blackmailing them into giving them money. The higher the risk of losing everything if the truth came out meant that Yuuri's pay load would be a lot higher.

And this system worked out for a while. A good while in fact. He was well off, had his own car and suit. He wasn't an easily recognisable face, and for those who did know him, knew not to talk of him. He had at least half the men in Detroit sitting in the palm of his smooth hand.

Yet all this fortune had to come to an end one day – and it all started with a simple heist.

*** 

“Yuuri! Wait up, Yuuri! I have a proposition to make.”

It was Phichit, running up the crowded street, struggling to get to Yuuri as the man walked away from yet another job.

“Can you make it quick, Chulanont.” Started Yuuri, as he slowed down for his friend to catch up, “I was at a job last night and I need to rest my eyes.”

Phichit nodded, “I'll walk and talk – how about that?”

Yuuri reluctantly agreed, “So, do you have a job for me or what?”

The grin on Chulanont's face was just enough to make Yuuri's stomach flip, he knew this wasn't going to be an easy ride.

“The job isn't one of your usual ones, no – but it does involve sleeping with someone – or at least getting their attention.”

“Ok, I'm listening...” said Yuuri, as he pushed past some teenagers, sneaking rum into their coat pockets.

“I need you to seduce one of the guards at the Ritz hotel. I know for a fact that this one,” Phichit held up a picture of a man with a wizened face and bushy moustache to Yuuri's eyes, “Is attracted to children,” Yuuri spat on the ground in disgust, “I need you to get us into the high stakes poker game the Russians are holding that night. It's private in a highly guarded room. All you have to do is get the keys from the guard, kill him if you like, and let me in. I'll lead the stick up, you just have to handle the hostages.”

Yuuri nodded, he couldn't pass up a chance to put a bullet in a paedophiles brain, “Sure thing, Chulanont. When and where is this happening?”

“Would you put a bullet in my head if I said you have to get with the guard tonight and do the stick up as soon as possible after that?”

Brows furrowed with anger, he wasn't going to get a good day's rest if he had to orchestrate the plan to its fullest. However, Yuuri reluctantly agreed, if only to get more money – he was running low since he bought a house.

**** 

Getting the guard into a room alone was easy. All he had to do was bend over in front of the guy, wiggle his arse slightly and the man was all over him. He practically was drooling as Yuuri lead him into the room and undressed him before shooting him in the head. Yuuri had standards. He did not have intercourse with child molesters. Especially not for a job. In these cases, he shot them straight away if he could just steal from them.

He assumed the identity of the guard to avoid arousing suspicion and put the keys in his pocket. Chulanont's sources told him that the Russians, also known as the Black Mambas, were in room 207 which was guarded by three guards: one either end of the corridor and one by the door itself. 

Most people would say it would be a hard task, but Chulanont had been stalking the Mambas for weeks and knew one vital detail which they would manipulate to the fullest – the had ordered both male and female prostitutes. 

Now, this was an advantage because Yuuri had a lot of connections with the local brothels around the city, as he had previously worked in most, if not all, the reputable ones. Therefore, he had made a deal for Chulanont earlier that day to escort the men and women into the Russians room with Yuuri acting as one of them. This involved changing in a crowded elevator, but all he had to do was wear a bow tie and smart trousers and shoes. Then once in the room, it was his job to protect the prostitutes and get them out of the room alive and well.

Or that was what was supposed to happen.

Getting into the room was fine. All the prostitutes were paid by Yuuri before they went in incase they weren't paid after the event. Chulanont lead them successfully past the guards and Yuuri even managed to get the hostages out of the room barricade the door before it all started going south.

The leader, Viktor Nikiforov, was sitting on his own in the middle of the room which had no furnishings in it whatsoever with his two best henchmen standing beside him glaring menacingly at the two would be burglars.

Yuuri and Phichit trained their pistols at the two henchmen.

“Grab 'em.” Nikiforov said, with the nonchalant flick of his hand.

The two henchmen ran forward and Yuuri was knocked unconscious before he could even pull the trigger on his gun. Yet, before it all went black, he heard glass shattering and a gun shot in the distance.

*** 

It smelt musky. 

He woke up with a sack over his head and his hands bound behind his back - but that was the least of his worries. He was more worried about Phichit. Was he dead or alive? There was no way of knowing. 

Trying to be assertive to his captors, Yuuri shouted into the nothingness, “Where's Chulanont, you Russian pigs?”

A sharp punch hit him square in the jaw and he sagged to the side, straining the ropes and tasting copper in his mouth. 

“No talking, little piggy.” Taunted one of the henchmen – presumably the one which punched him, “Your friend is fine... For now.”

Not completely satisfied with the answer, Yuuri just leant against the ropes, waiting. His mouth was dry and his stomach gurgled, it had obviously been some time since he last drank or ate. That would mean that it was the morning after. Well, if they hadn't killed him by now, then he must be at least useful to the gang. That was good. It meant that he could escape with his life - hopefully. 

Presumably, some hours had passed as Yuuri waited on the chair. Perhaps it was an intimidation tactic to keep him waiting for so long. Perhaps he was just forgotten about. Then again, he wasn't getting tortured. That was a bonus.

Click. The door opened.

Sharp steps penetrated the air as they made their way towards Yuuri. The steps stopped short of Yuuri's chair and the sack over his head was ripped off and cast to one side.

Looking up, Yuuri saw Mr Nikiforov's face turn from neutral to pure rage. For a moment, Yuuri thought this was going to turn out bad for him; it was quite the opposite. Taking the gun out of its holster, Nikiforov carefully raised it shot the two henchmen in quick succession.

Yuuri felt the ground vibrate as the bodied fell to the ground – the ropes hindered him from turning to look round and see what had happened.

“I trusted them... Why would they do that?” Mr Nikiforov muttered under his breath as he took the pistols off of the dead bodies and placed them in his own coat.

Turning around to Yuuri, Mr Nikiforov studied the bruise which had bloomed on Yuuri's jaw, frowning, “I told them not to mess up your face. They should have listened. Now this pushes my plans back by weeks – the incompetent bastards.”

Yuuri thought he should reply, but he could not find any words. Was it that Mr Nikiforov needed him for a job?

“You would do well to put some ice on that bruise, Mr Katsuki. We wouldn't want to ruin that pretty little head of yours, now, would we? It was quite inspired trying to rob the Black Mambas, but you should stick to what you know. I hear you've made quite the fortune.” He knelt down between Yuuri's legs and placed his hands on his thighs and looked up at Yuuri, who had started to blush furiously, “And what about your friend – Phichit Chulanont was it? The mastermind of this whole event and he managed to escape, that surprises me. How could anyone leave you behind like a stray dog?”

Yuuri swallowed but did not say anything as Mr Nikiforov ran his slender fingers across Yuuri's thigh and right up to his neck, before standing up and pacing the room.

“Katsuki Yuuri. I know that you have been blackmailing rich men for sometime now. I'm surprised you haven't tried your tactics on me, since you obviously know what I like. In all honesty I'm very jealous. Fortunately for you, I have an idea which would be mutually beneficial. I propose that you join my gang. Become a Black Mamba. I have some jobs which require someone like you. I can't trust amateurs,” He glanced over at the bodies, “They can't handle precious cargo in quite the same way.”

Mr Nikiforov then left the room and a woman entered. She untied him without saying a word and he was taken into the main building.

It was now clear that Yuuri had been kept in a dingy broom closet of the Black Mamba's head quarters. He was actually in a huge mansion, probably on the outskirts of the city going by the expensive decoration and the amount of people dressed in fine clothes, brandishing guns worth more than his life.

Yuuri was funnelled into Viktor's main office, which had book cases lining the walls, a large mahogany desk in the middle of it and a bottle of rum on the windowsill behind the desk. Viktor walked to the rum and picked it up, he looked at Yuuri, silently asking him if he wanted any. Yuuri declined and Viktor poured his own drink. He knocked it back before he sat down.

“Mila, please go and dispose of the bodies.” Nikiforov ordered, before he added, “Oh, and make sure nobody disturbs us.”

Yuuri shrunk into the closest chair and grabbed at his heart. He knew it wasn't a good sign to be alone with Mr Nikiforov. People said he was full of surprises and Yuuri wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

“Mr Katsuki, I must apologise for any injury my people may have caused. In my defence, I told them to only hit you where clothes could hide the marks. Any how, go rest up in one of my rooms. You will be staying there until I that bruise clears up - then I have a job. You must now live by the Black Mambas rules. I own you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> (I based Yuuri's 'job' on the Homosexual Blackmailers Charter that was in place in England and took the concept and adapted it to this fic. If anyone wants info on it please ask and I will gladly give some links to find out more.)
> 
> The next update will be on the 23rd of February.


End file.
